


The distance between pain and pleasure

by aimeewrites



Series: Atonement [5]
Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Discipline, F/F, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22054747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aimeewrites/pseuds/aimeewrites
Summary: In Paris, Anne Lister indulges in one of her favourite pastimes - buying books. Ann - is not happytitle inspired by Anne's entry : "Pleasure is seldom far distant from pain (28 April 1833)"
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Series: Atonement [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1438501
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those who would like to see Voyage dans l’empire de Flore by Hanin :   
> https://archive.org/details/b22036337/page/n15 P 94
> 
> (excerpt from page 94)

Th 22nd of June

_Breakfast – brioche with butter & plum jam, tea. _ _An indulgence._ _Always reminds me of Rousseau “_ _d’une grande princesse à qui l’on disait que les paysans n’avaient pas de pain, et qui répondit: “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche.”_ _Then walk to the Tuileries & back, going past la Madeleine. _ _Dinner – beef à la sauce piquante, green beans & apple tart. _ _After dinner, went to the sitting room to read while A- did some embroidery. At 3.12, the doorbell rang & Eugenie came in with a brown paper parcel she handed to me, saying the delivery boy from Delamaine had just deposited them. I glanced at A- who seemed to be fully occupied by her work & began to untie the strings with eager anticipation. I soon had the contents of the parcel piled up on the table : the Mémoires de l’académie de chirurgie illustrated by Cochin, Voyage dans l’empire de Flore by Hanin – the first botanical classification of the specimens in the Jardin des Plantes, I had to have it, and a translation of Tacitus by JJ Rousseau. I was about to start on the Voyage when I felt A-‘s eyes on me & myself blushing. A- stood up & came up to the table…_

« Anne – look at me, please. »

Undeceived by her calm voice, I stared guiltily into her eyes and bit my lips.

« What did we say about books, Anne ? »

« Err -… »

I knew full well what she was referring to but could not bring myself to answer, especially since I had thrown all caution to the wind when doing the purchase and did not feel particularly proud of myself. In truth, I could not justify such extravagance. I had agreed to a budget for books and I had promised to discuss any expense with Ann. It was, however, one thing to give my word and another to resist when I found myself at the bookseller’s.

« How much did you spend on these, Anne? »

Ann’s tone remained eerily tranquil and my cheeks reddened even further. I knew I had to answer. « Two… Two hundred and fifty-seven francs » I murmured. I had exceeded my book allowance by more than one hundred francs… I could not bear to look in my beloved’s eyes. Not only had I betrayed her trust, broken my word, but it was not the first time. During our last stay in London, I had also indulged in my guilty pleasure and although more modestly, I had paid for my transgression dearly. I should have remembered…

Since Ann remained silent, I risked a glance at her face. I knew not what she was thinking, but she had to be greatly annoyed. We had agreed on a more severe sentence for a repeat offence, and there was no doubt this was the case. I rose and came to kneel at her feet: “I should not have done it. Please forgive me, Miss Walker.”, said I in a shaky voice.

“Oh, Lister!” she sighed. “How could you? I had thought we would spend a quiet evening together and… Now you have spoilt it by your thoughtlessness.”

I struggled not to cry – I had disappointed myself and most of all, her. I stared at her feet and murmured: “Please let me atone for my behaviour, Ma’am.”

Waiting for her reply were the longest minutes in my life. My thoughts were in turmoil, and I would have myself suggested what I thought a just chastisement if I had not known she would never have condoned it. Finally, she spoke: “I shall spank you for it, Lister – how much were the books again?”

“Two hundred and fifty-seven francs”, I repeated apprehensively… Surely she did not mean to…And as it was a repeat offense, the punishment had to be doubled.

“How many times should I spank you, then, Lister?”

I had already broken my work to her, I could not renege again.

“Two hundred times, Ma’am – perhaps if you would be good enough to delay part of the chastisement?” I begged – I did not deserve mercy, and yet did not think I could bear it.

“Very well, Lister – one hundred it is for now. Bare yourself and get me my riding gloves from my bedroom drawer!”

I rose and started towards the bedroom when her voice sliced the air: “No, Lister – I said “bare yourself’”. Blushing crimson, I began to undo my skirts and my petticoats, stopping at my drawers. We were on the ground floor and although I did not think the servants were upstairs, the bedroom was two floors up… Going up the stairs in my undergarments would be mortifying enough… I hesitated and begged again: “Please, Ma’am – please!”

“Bare”, she repeated inflexibly. Eyes down, I let my drawers drop to the ground. A sharp slap on my bare behind sent me on my way.

When I came back with the leather gloves, Miss Walker had settled on the divan. I had never run up stairs as fast as today. She beckoned and I lowered myself on her lap, all too aware of the moisture that was pooling between my thighs. I would soak her silken dress in a moment. She slowly slid the gloves on her hands, giving me time to consider my predicament. Although I had the slim comfort of being close to her, of resting my bosom on her thighs, I would not feel her naked hand on my bare posterior and that would be as much a punishment as the spanking itself. Miss Walker caressed my behind and I shivered at the alien touch of leather on my skin. It led me to believe she would be lenient and begin slowly but the first spanks hurt more than I thought they would. After about fifty, I was not able to remain still any longer and began to squirm and kick, almost sliding off her lap. She rewarded my naughtiness by a few stinging slaps on my thighs – I was supposed to accept my chastisement quietly. After another series, she asked me to count the last twenty, thanking her after the last ten. This I did with barely a breath of voice, since I had lost all self-control. My derriere was on fire, my queer tingled, my head was lost in a place of unconsciousness and I had to fight to find the numbers in my brain. The hundredth spank landed hard on my burning behind and I cried with pain and relief. When she allowed me to rise, I kissed her gloves with reverence and slowly got them off her hands. She then opened her arms and I nestled in her, soaking her dress and her neck with my tears and my release. “You did well, my Anne”, said she, and although I wanted to sink at her knees again but I revelled in the comforting embrace and covered her décolletage with kisses.

“Am I – am I forgiven, then?” I murmured hesitantly. She usually granted me pardon after a chastisement, and since she had not uttered the words, I could not feel quite absolved.

“You are forgiven, my love – always. But your punishment is not quite over. I want you in the corner for a little time, while I put away those books. I shall give them back when I feel you deserve them.”

I hung my head in shame, and disappointment. I had thought she would be lenient enough to let me have my purchase. As for standing in the corner…This was a mortifying punishment I had not had to suffer since my schooldays.

“Ma’am – please…” I whispered among the kisses. But to no avail. She pushed me away and I stood up, retrieving my drawers from the floor.

She shook her head: “Lister, Lister…You know the rule.”

I groaned – she would show me no mercy. Blushing bright red, I walked to the corner and showed my crimson behind to the room. I did not see her leave but I prayed she would lock the door. I heard the key and my shoulders marginally lost some of their stiffness. She knew me well enough to respect the rules of chastisement and I did not move from my humbling position. When she came back to release me, it was only twelve minutes afterwards by the clock, but hours of mortification.


	2. Chapter 2

Fr 23rd of June

_Very good kiss last night – then incurred two crosses while A- was sleeping, just touching my behind & thinking of her. Breakfast today – two slices of bread, butter, tea. Went for a walk to the Jardin des Plantes. It made me long for my new book – I staid two hours in the library but I wished I could read my own copy of Hanin. Came back home for dinner – soup – the French cannot have a meal without soup, boiled cod, as it was Friday, with swedes and prunes. After dinner, went for another walk with A-. When we came back, she wanted to write letters. Said I was a little fatiguée & would retire to my bedroom for quiet time before supper. In truth, was not as tired as I let believe. I had seen this morning a most interesting plant specimen in the Jardin & Hanin’s book held, I was certain, the answers to my questions. I would just read that particular passage & put the book back where Ann had secreted it. For a moment, guilt threatened to overwhelm me. She trusted me not to look. She had not hidden them – I knew she had put them in the large trunk in the corner of the bedroom. I had seen them when she had opened it to look for a missing skein of cotton. She wanted me to know & resist the temptation. She had no will to coerce me into obedience – she wished for me to take control of my own urges & this was why she chastised me. I laid down on the bed for a moment but the questions in my head would not let themselves be dismissed & in a thrice I found myself kneeling before the trunk & retrieving Hanin. I promised myself I would take but a quick look & put it back forthwith. What I found was so interesting that I just had to copy it in this journal. Hales’ experiment on the humidity of the soil fascinated me & I saw myself doing it myself & improving on it at Shibden. _ _I dipped my quill in the well & started to copy the relevant extract …Le 30 juillet, il prit une branche de pommier de 974 millimètres (3 pieds) de longueur…Elle tira l’eau avec une telle force qu’elle fit monter le mercure de 311 millimètre ( 11 pouces) en 3 heures... Il prit ensuite une branche de pommier qu’il effeuilla: le mercure monta fort peu, d’où il conclut que les feuilles sont essentielle à l’ascension de la sève…. _

« Anne ! »

I started so that the ink spilt & my quill bent. Looking at the clock, I saw time had run away and it was dinner-time. It was too late to hide my misdemeanour. At least the ink had not reached my precious copy. Dismayed, I looked into Anne’s eyes and saw my torment reflected in hers. I had once again betrayed her trust, not twenty-four hours after my first transgression. Biting my lips, I stood up and went to replace the volume where I had found it. Then I sank to my knees in front of her, eyes on the carpet and threw myself on her mercy.

“Well, Lister, I had not expected such flagrant flouting of my decision. What do you have to say for yourself?”

I had nothing to answer – I had disobeyed and would have to pay the price. My behind had barely regained its usual pale colour and it would not remain long that way.

“Remember what you said to the cook a few days after we arrived, Lister?”

I searched my brain and could not see what she meant – I had said several things to the cook, as my bowels could not take such rich food as she had prepared for us at first. I had then tried to instruct her into making proper English porridge, but in that I had failed lamentably. She had served us several watery gruels and I had finally forbidden her to try again. I could not see what the cook had to do with…

“About what you had seen in her kitchen…” prodded Ann.

“Oh – oh…” Now I knew all too well what she was thinking about and I did not like the idea at all. The French have an implement very similar to our cat’o-nine-tails, a short, scourge-like type of whip made of a wooden handle of about 10 inches in length and about 10 lashes of equal, relatively short length. I had been surprised to see one hanging in our kitchen and our cook had explained she used the martinet, for so it was called, to discipline her children, as it was the fashion in France. She had asked if I had any objection to her leaving it around and I had said that of course I had none and she was free to do whatever she wanted with her children. I was about to regret my words.

“I can see you understand me, Lister. I want you to fetch it. I will not ask you to undress first, for there is a strong possibility Cook is still here and I do not want to shock her. If she is, you will have to ask her for the martinet. Go!”

I blushed to the root of my hair – surely Miss Walker could not mean it. I risked a look at her face – it was determined and stern. I slunk out of the room, frantically trying to find an excuse for borrowing the instrument of chastisement. As I had feared, Cook was indeed still in her domain. I could not just go across the room and take it – I had to say something. Asking God to forgive me for the lie, I said my sister’s children were quite unruly and I wanted to describe the whip in a letter to her and for that I would need to borrow it if she did not mind too much. I could see that I had done nothing to disprove the British people’s reputation for eccentricity in her eyes, but she smiled knowingly and said that of course I could and she would be going home anyway for today. I murmured a few unintelligible words in response and got out as fast as I could. The woman was no fool and I had probably not deceived her…

When the lashes landed on my bare behind, I pitied the French children. Quite as painful as a tawse, and maybe even more, the sting of the martinet was almost unbearable. As I bent there on the carpet and accepted the whipping, I felt every inch of my body shudder and go into spasms. My hands gripped the back of the chair in a death hold and only the thought that Miss Walker cared enough for me to give me this discipline kept me from jumping up. The chastisement went on and on, my shallow breaths kept time with the whip, my skin burnt like a hot poker and I lost myself in an ecstasy of pain. When it finally stopped, I collapsed on the floor, a sobbing, soaked mass of anguish and contrition. I hardly felt Ann sinking down beside me and enveloping me in her arms. I clung to her and when I had managed to curb my emotions, my fingers found my way under her skirt…

_Three kisses last night – grubbled A- several times during the evening & night with much success. I believe she was as satisfied as I was. This morning, another hand spanking to remind me of my wrongdoings & to make sure it would not happen again. Very sore, but A- does not allow me any cream to soothe my behind. Breakfast – toast, quince jelly, tea. I am to sit at my desk this morning – on my bare derriere - only wearing my chemise & no drawers & copy the Table des Genres from Hanin’s book. The dullest part of the volume & quite long. From time to time, however, A- comes to sit beside me & she lets me grubble her on the outside of her petticoats. Once I leaned on her bosom & reached under them & rubbed her queer. She let me. Also a good kiss – with tongue. Much pleasure ensued. _


End file.
